, more commonly known as Purple Heart… and since I always post the first Crinum lily of the season… lily with Bree in the background. In people years the old girl is 83.
You can’t kill crinums. I pulled the entire bed up after Irma… about 60 of them… and threw the ones I wanted to keep in another bed. Not planted. They lay there dormant, looking door-nail dead, until I planted them again this Spring. Miraculous.
Alberto has been dumping massive amounts of water on us, but guess what? It’s monsoon season anyway. For two weeks before Al got here we were inundated every day. Fortunately we live on a sandbar.
This is one Big Ass Lizard.
A neighborhood cat ran it up to our front porch, Arthur chased the predator off and now this goober is clinging to our screens like a frightened mouse.
That’s what I hate about cats outside; they kill for play and will decimate populations of wildlife for no reason other than fun.
It’s difficult to see how large he really is, but that’s my honking big Honeywell air cleaner behind him…
Edited to add…….
Iggy stayed for 24 hours; so long we were worried about him. But the wildlife folks said “If you care, leave them there”.
…and suddenly our visitor was gone. Safe travels, little man.
Yesterday, while a sick fuck murdered 17 kids a few miles away at MSD High, I was taking a break from working in the yard.
The Sims is my current game of choice and in that make believe world Katy was busy trying to teach her Corgi Penny to fetch.
It’s not going well.
Nobody older than 50 ‘gets’ this: shooting your classmates with an AR-15. When we were young (yeah, I’m going there) guns of all kinds were readily available. The boys driving trucks had gun racks with deer rifles clearly displayed and nobody thought anything of it because guns are tools. Period. Our parents taught us how to shoot them, how to clean them and how to respect them, just as they did with hammers and horse tack. But I can’t remember anything like this ever happening back then.
What’s the difference in generations? Well, my sister-in-law thinks pesticides are warping young brains. Someone else blamed the ubiquitous ADD drugs, which so many kids are on, even if nothing wrong with them. “Just to make him focus at school”.
We don’t know with this evil son of a bitch yet, in general I believe Snowflake Syndrome has ruined our kids. Can’t spank them. And they’re not allowed to fail. (Everyone gets a trophy!) Or fall down. Or be bullied. Or be offended. They’ve built no fitting response to any damn thing. So when the untoward occurs when they’re older and have access to weapons? Horror.
The answer does not lie in taking away weapons from law abiding citizens, but in a better response to mental health problems. When everything went to hell yesterday the kids knew it had to be this asshole; they knew. If everyone knew, what was he doing with weapons and why wasn’t he in treatment? Who failed? Who’s complicit?
Of course none of this will bring back those precious children. God help us.
Edited to add: Teachers ought to be able to carry concealed. Making schools a gun-free zone is the most shameful thing ever perpetuated on the American public.
And dammit, I wasn’t going to talk politics or current events on this blog.
Not crazy, but here are the little beasties who try to push me off the bed at night. Snoring their butts off…
My sister-in-law sleeps with three Rottweilers in her bed and I have trouble with a couple of small dogs!! LOL!
Anyway, I think I mentioned Guy Who Yells at Me in a previous post. He started over a year ago while walking past my postage stamp house/yard with his little black and white dog. My dogs started barking (of course!) and I walked over to Bree and hugged her to calm her down and stop her running around, trampling the little dogs.
The Guy then went berserk, screaming “You’d better not be hurting that dog!! You better not!”. I was taken aback, to say the least, and replied “Sir, not that it’s any of your business, but I’d never hurt this dog”.
Well, he kept it up for another few minutes, accusing me of hitting her and all sorts of things! I was gobsmacked.
And every time he walked that mutt past the house and we were out there, he would go crazy on my ass. EVERY TIME. Once he yelled “Are you hitting that dog? You better not be hitting that dog!” To which I replied “Sir, I am 6 feet away from her; just how crazy are you?”
It got so bad I started hiding in the house and then one day I ran inside to hide because he’d come around the corner and Arthur saw me. He stepped outside and told the Guy “Stop yelling at my wife or I’ll call the police.”
And that was it. I didn’t see him again. Guess he chose another route. Huzzah!
Enter Woman Who Yells at Me. You can’t make this shit up!
Bree will be 11 tomorrow (I know!!) but when she was younger I used to bathe her outside in the summer. And we used to play with the hose, her trying to catch the water. Most of us with dogs have.
Well, the Woman happened by with her dog one day a couple of weeks ago while I was outside with the dogs.. and I had a hose in my hand. She lost her mind and started screaming “You better not be spraying that dog in the head!!”
I thought: Is this Guy Who Yells at Me’s wife???
Better prepared for the insanity, I just smiled and walked away… Until she caught me on a bad day. The inspector had shown up (for the fifth time) but once again the contractor was a no-show. I had just fed the dogs and took them out. I always go with them, they’re never alone.
There she was, across the street, watching me. Bree and the little dogs went nuts and because Bree is a deep chested breed and I don’t want her to torsion and bloat, I picked up the hose. She thought she was getting a bath and shut up and retreated to the back yard. That should have been that, but the Woman had to open her mouth, didn’t she? I don’t know what she was screaming because I was louder. And it was profane. Haven’t seen her since.
Crazy people are everywhere… but lately it seems like I’m seeing more than my share…